


Compliments to the Chef

by ChubbinLovin



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Belly Kink, Food Kink, M/M, Mutual Pining, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChubbinLovin/pseuds/ChubbinLovin
Summary: After visiting a new restaurant in town, Shima is taken with more than just the food. And a certain handsome, portly chef might just share his interest as well.((Fat kink/weight gain fic. Don't like, don't read.))
Relationships: Okumura Rin/Shima Renzou
Comments: 1
Kudos: 67





	Compliments to the Chef

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stuffingstilinski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffingstilinski/gifts).



> It's been a fucking decade but I finally finished something. This is for the lovely StuffingStilinski here on AO3, so go check out some of their stuff if you haven't yet!

It had been a while since Shima had been out to eat at a nice restaurant, and he was looking forward to treating himself a bit. He totally deserved it too. It was a special occasion after all: it would be his first night out since mid-terms, and he and his friends had all passed. Bon and Koneko hadn’t had any issues and aced their exams without breaking a sweat, but that was to be expected of them. 

None of them said it, but the celebration was definitely more for Shima’s sake than theirs. It didn’t really  _ need _ to be said either, considering he’d been the one cramming and complaining the entire time. Thanks to their help, he’d scraped on through, and he was looking forward to celebrating with a meal that wasn’t cup noodles or a delivery pizza.

And what better time for a new restaurant to open its doors, and just a few blocks away from their dorms no less? Apparently it was a big hit with his fellow students: not only was the food fast and affordable, apparently it was goddamn delicious too. Naturally the more Shima heard about it, the more certain he became of where he’d be spending the coming Saturday night. 

When they arrived, they were seated relatively quickly, despite the business of the restaurant. Obviously word had spread quickly, and the homey little hole-in-the-wall had become something of a local hot spot, especially for the university's students. If it was as good as people said it was, hopefully the hype would last, and it wouldn’t die out like every other passing trend.

And, just as promised, their meal was nothing less than excellent. The menu was fairly simple on the surface, mostly comfort food and homestyle recipes, but there was something extraordinary about just how it was all seasoned and prepared. Everything had a unique spin to it, something that set it apart from your average sukiyaki or soba. 

Despite his recent diet of instant ramen (or maybe because of it) the special of the day caught Shima’s eye: spicy pork ramen. The picture featured on the menu just looked too good, and the bowl that arrived at his table was no exception. The cuts of meat were tender and juicy, richly seasoned by the broth and its contents. Everything was perfect.

Shima had to force himself not to wolf it all down too quickly, and to savor it. It was a good thing too: the helpings were generous, to say the least. Too fast, and he thought he might end up in a food coma. His bowl was nearly the size of his head, and filled to the brim with broth, thick noodles, pork cutlets, and topped with a soft-boiled egg cut into halves.

By the time he was finished, Shima wasn’t just satisfied: he was nearly comatose, even despite his efforts to pace himself. He’d polished off his bowl without leaving behind hardly a drop of savory broth, and his hearty portions were definitely showing in the moderate bloat of his normally flat stomach. (Though not quite as flat as it had been in high school, thanks to his more lackadaisical diet as of late). 

Still recovering from his well-deserved, albeit gluttonous meal, the last thing he’d been prepared for was a guest at their table. Shima was leaning comfortably back in his seat, one hand resting gently against the subtle bulge of his stomach when a new voice caught his attention. 

“How was everything?”

Shima wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting, but it definitely hadn’t been a husky, raven-haired young man with soft, pretty features and a sharp, pearly grin. He couldn’t have been much older than them, if at all, and he had a vibrance about him that was eye-catching to say the least. His deep, blue eyes practically sparkled with eager expectancy as he approached, cleaning his hands off on the navy apron tied snugly around his pudgy waist.

Whether he was aware of it or not, Shima straightened up a bit in his seat and adjusted his fitted t-shirt to try and disguise just how much he’d enjoyed his large meal. A soft, subtle shade of pink warmed his cheeks; of all the times for a cute guy to come up and greet him out of nowhere, this had to be one of the worst. Still, he played it cool and didn’t miss a beat.

“It was awesome!” he answered, holding his hand out and meeting the newcomer’s eyes with much more boldness than he truly felt. “You’ve got a really nice place here.”

That made the young man beam with excitement as he took Shima’s palm in his own, shaking vigorously; damn, he had a strong grip! “That’s great to hear,” he chuckled jovially, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I was a bit nervous about the special tonight, so I just wanted to come check around.”

“Well, if it wasn’t obvious, that ramen was damn good,” Shima replied playfully, giving his bowl a pointed gesture with his thumb, and his stomach a secretive pat beneath the table. “You should have more faith in your cooks.”

The man chuckled sheepishly. “I’m uh… actually the head chef,” he told them simply.

Shima could’ve slapped himself. Instead he managed a small, cracking laugh of apology. “Oh! I uh-... I thought you were the manager or somethin’,” he admitted with a shrug. “It’s not often you get a table-side visit from a chef, but I guess the apron should’a given it away.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed lightly, patting Shima roughly (but playfully) on the back. “I know it’s a little weird, but I like to see firsthand when people eat my food. There aren’t any orders waiting and we’re about to close the kitchen up for the night, so I thought I’d check around the dining room while I had the chance.”

“That makes sense,” Koneko remarked, offering a friendly smile. “You must really care about your cooking.”

“Sure do! It’s, uh-... pretty much the only thing I’m good at,” the chef admitted with a weak laugh that fell flat. “I really lucked out getting a job here. They let me put the menu together myself, and everything!”

It was almost too easy to warm up to this guy. He was friendly and open, and undeniably handsome. And his tall, thick build definitely wasn’t doing Shima any favors. It wasn’t hard to imagine sitting and talking with him for the rest of the evening, personable as he was, but they were interrupted just as he seemed to be getting comfortable.

“Okumura! Quit socializing and come help clean up!”

“Right! Sorry!” the chef called over his shoulder, then gave a polite bow of his head to Shima and his companions. “Thanks for coming! Enjoy the rest of your night!”

Shima watched him leave at a brisk pace before disappearing into the kitchen, his eyes trailing up and down the backside of his bulky frame. (And what a backside it was.) He tried not to let his gaze linger too long, or else Bon and Koneko might notice; he definitely didn’t want to have  _ that  _ conversation, certainly not in mixed company. It wasn’t even a conscious decision he’d made, but he knew he’d be back. 

* * *

Within the week Shima had started making plans for his next trip to the restaurant, as well as plans to try and get to know the local cook a little better. He did a little bit of digging, asking about what nights and times of day were the slowest. If he wanted more time to talk to the guy, he’d need to catch him when he wouldn’t be too busy. 

Although he didn’t let either of his friends know about his current undertaking, he knew exactly what they’d say:  _ “if only you put this much effort into studying for school.” _

In all honesty though, school wasn’t really his priority. Not even a little bit. That was Bon and Koneko’s schtick, but he was mostly just there because it was expected of him. To “better himself” or whatever. No, he wasn’t about to let himself flunk out, but (for better or for worse) he was generally a much more passive person than his childhood friends. At least when it came to academics.

When it came to matters of the heart (or other throbbing organs), on the other hand, he put in his whole effort. Some might've said he tried a little  _ too _ hard, in fact. Patience is a virtue, and possibly the only one Shima possessed, especially when the pursuit of a crush was involved. And, suffice to say, he’d had no shortage of experience with that.

Originally he’d intended to give it at least two weeks before returning to the restaurant, but by day ten his supposed patience had failed him. Not only was he eager to see the chef again, he was just as keen on tasting more of his incredible cooking. So he put all his research to use a bit ahead of schedule, strolling in right around five o’clock on a Tuesday evening.

He’d been fasting for most of the day in preparation for what he knew would be a heavy, rich meal. By the time he was seated his stomach was roaring with hunger, and his mouth watering just from the smells and sounds of food being prepared towards the back of the building. When his waiter came by, he was quick to order a serving of gyoza along with his drink to tide him over. 

The real trouble was deciding what he wanted. He was left alone for the time being to browse the menu, but he was finding it nearly impossible to choose. There were so many things he wanted to try that it was hard to even narrow it down. Then he remembered what had brought the object of his intrigue out to him in the first place.

Sure enough, he saw a new special advertised on the menu. Maybe he’d get lucky again. The notion was enough to make up his mind, so he was ready to order by the time the waiter came back around to him. Then all that was left to do was sit back, wait, and enjoy his appetizer until the main dish arrived.

And that happened quite a bit sooner than he’d expected, probably because of how slow the restaurant was. It was well after the lunch rush and too soon for dinner, so Shima shared the dining room with just a handful of tables, almost all of which had already been served. He still had a couple of gyoza left, but he set them aside in favor of his steaming bowl of yaki udon.

Just like the ramen he’d had a little over a week ago, it was spectacular, but that didn’t come as a surprise. The standard had already been set, and more importantly, it was being maintained. Shima ate happily, finally satisfying the hunger that had been growing and aching in his stomach all day. Once again he found himself struggling to pace himself, and he was dismayed to find his bowl empty all too soon.

Now all he could do was wait. Well, that, and finish off his order of gyoza. Sure enough, it didn’t take long for a navy-blue apron and a dark, messy head of hair to catch his eye. He barely managed to contain his eagerness, especially when he noticed the chef’s double-take upon seeing him. That second glance was followed by a pleasantly surprised smile.

“Hey, I remember you,” he greeted, sidling up to Shima’s table and crossing his arms casually around his pudgy midsection, almost as if to comfortably shelve them there. “Back so soon?”

Shima shrugged, managing a chuckle that just barely passed for nonchalant. “What can I say? You have a gift. And another great special, in case you were wonderin’.”

“You got me,” he admitted, brushing away a few stray strands of hair that had fallen loose from the clip pinning back his bangs. “I was getting bored back there anyway. I’m way ahead on dinner prep and there aren’t any orders, so I thought I’d come mingle.”

“Your boss doesn’t mind?”

“Nah,” he insisted dismissively with a little wave of his hand. “S’long as I get all my work done and I’m not botherin’ our guests. I’m uh-... m’not bothering you, am I…?”

“Of course not,” Shima reassured him quickly. “If anything, I’m happy I get to thank you in person for another awesome meal. Plus I didn't get your name last time.”

“Oh, my bad! Rin Okumura,” he replied, taking his hand without much warning and seeming eager to right his mistake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same to you. I’m Renzo Shima.”

It was almost too easy. So much so that Shima was honestly surprised by it, not that he was complaining. He was used to more of a chase on his part, but that could be tiring. It was even worse when all the hassle turned out to be for nothing, and things didn’t work out. In his case, they often didn’t, but that never dissuaded him from trying. In any case, this made it seem so much more natural. 

As much as he would’ve liked to have Rin sit with him, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to show too much of his hand at once. Besides, he couldn’t monopolize the guy’s time while he was on the clock. All the more reason to keep coming back, though.

* * *

Before long, Shima had started making near-weekly trips to the little restaurant, both for its cuisine and the one in charge of cooking it. He had no doubts that he could not only afford it, but justify it as well, since he usually ended up ordering takeout of some kind at least once a week anyway. It hardly made a difference to his wallet, but it definitely made a big difference to his routine. And, in his opinion, it was for the better. At the very least, it got him out of the dormitories.

He still hadn’t told Bon or Koneko about his latest exploits though. Why should he? If he knew them, they’d just poke fun at him for another “doomed romantic endeavor,” and he really didn’t need that kind of negativity cramping his style. Sure, his track record wasn’t sparkling, by any means: he flitted in and out of affairs like a bee buzzing from one flower to the next. Busy, busy, busy.

This felt different though. The more he saw Rin, the more aware he became of that fact. Any moment he wasn’t at the restaurant felt long and drawn out, and any day he’d planned another visit was riddled with anticipatory glances at the time on his phone. He’d always had a habit of blitzing through the school days, but that was truer than ever now that he had somewhere very specific in mind he’d rather be.

But he’d made it to another Tuesday, and another early evening at Rin’s restaurant. By then he’d gotten something of a “regular” status, and usually got sat at the same table and served by the same two or three members of the staff. Rin had even started to figure out his usual times for visiting, and this time he took Shima by surprise. He’d only been sitting for about five minutes, having put in an order for an appetizer and his drink. Rather than a second visit from his waitress, the chef was the one to bring it to his table.

“Hey!” the dark haired boy greeted jubilantly, boldly taking the open seat across from him. “About time. I waited to take my lunch break until you got here. I’m starving, so I hope you’re happy.”

Shima blinked in pleasant surprise, and only then did he notice the boxed lunch sitting on the table in front of Rin. “You did? How did you know I-”

“Pot stickers at five o’clock on Tuesday,” Rin chuckled plainly, poking his own temple with his forefinger. “People call me dumb all the time, but I’ve committed you to memory!” He laughed in a way that was almost obnoxious, yet charming enough to be excused. “I even have a special ready for you. Don’t worry, I did all the important stuff: the other guys are just finishing it off. Not so dumb after all, huh?”

Shima wasn’t sure if Rin was actually asking that of him or not, so he shrugged mildly and chuckled in response. “Eh, people say the same thing about me. I’m only smart when it comes to things I give a shit about.”

“Ah, yeah! I guess that’s pretty much me too.”

It was impossible not to take the opening offered to him. “Aw, you care about me?” Shima couldn’t help but snort in amusement when Rin’s face flushed, and he nearly choked on the onigiri he’d just taken a hearty bite of. “That’s cute.”

“Sh-shut up! I didn’t mean it like that,” Rin spluttered out, but his cheeks still burned a fiery pink. He wasn’t looking Shima in the eyes anymore either. “I just meant-... I mean. You’re my first regular customer. Or, y’know, not  _ mine _ , but-  _ whatever _ , you get it. You’re cool, and you give good feedback on my food. So I like when you come in, okay…?”

“Really? I figured you’d get tired of some guy coming in all the time and gushing over you.” Shima couldn’t help but grin a little bit, feeling mildly warm himself. In his cheeks, his chest, and the pit of his stomach as he watched Rin eat his lunch with gusto. Aside from the crumbs here and there and a few bits of rice sticking to the corners of his lips, he managed to stay relatively tidy and not make too big a mess.

“Tired of it? No way! The whole reason I cook is because I like making people happy with my food,” Rin explained, his mouth full with half-chewed tempura shrimp. “If I’m just making food for money and strangers, then it feels totally pointless.”

Although he couldn’t say he understood it completely, let alone related to it, Shima found the sentiment endearing. “Wow, Okumura,” he remarked with a little smirk, “I didn’t expect you to be the romantic type!”

“Quit makin’ fun’a me!” Rin bawled haughtily, kicking Shima lightly in the shin from underneath the table. “I take it back, you’re not cool anymore.” A stern pout, weak as it was, took root on his face as he put down his chopsticks and took another sharp bite out of his onigiri.

Shima just smiled and laughed a little more. This was the first he’d gotten to talk to Rin this much; he wasn’t really the way he’d expected at all, but in the best of ways. He was definitely more of the tender sort, which came as an endearing surprise. He’d come across as kind of a punk, but not necessarily in a bad way. The type of guy who could crack a joke and break a nose just as easily, if necessary. This was unexpected though.

He actually seemed really sweet.

Before Shima could voice his thoughts, or even decide whether or not he should, a bowl of chicken, curry and rice was set in front of him by their waitress. Fragrant, colorful, and crowned by curling steam, it had redirected Shima’s attention entirely. He thanked the waitress, and then Rin before diving in for his first eager and greedy bite.

Rin was watching him intently the whole time, gauging his reaction and awaiting some kind of response. He’d raised his onigiri for another bite of his own meal, but he’d stalled expectantly before he could do so. It wasn’t nerves really, but it was like eagerly waiting for a payoff of some kind. The fruit of his labors.

And that fruit was as good as ever; Shima beamed at him after swallowing the first bite and wasted no time in continuing through his meal. “S’really good, Okumura! Looks like your coworkers didn’t get a chance to mess it up,” he joked playfully with half his mouth full.

“I’d hope not. All they had to do was cook the chicken and plate it all,” Rin laughed, rubbing the back of his head softly. “Pretty hard to screw up, honestly. Oh, and… y’know you can just call me Rin. It feels way too weird being so formal.”

“Oh,” Shima said as he perked up in his seat, slightly surprised. “Yeah, I guess you have a point. You can call me Renzo, then. Just to even the score.” He winked ambiguously at Rin, neither flirtatious nor entirely sarcastic in the gesture. He should still keep him on his toes for now, after all.

It seemed to work too. A soft bloom of pink returned to his cheeks as his deep, blue eyes widened a bit, his lips pursing almost invisibly. He glanced away and cleared his throat in a way that might’ve been intended as subtle, but definitely wasn’t. “Hey, so. Y’know it’s kind of a pain in the ass to only talk to you when I’m at work, right?”

This time Renzo’s surprise wasn’t so pleasant. A curious frown played on his lips; he’d thought things were going well too. Rin was the one to approach him, after all. In fact, he hadn’t even really  _ asked _ to sit down; he’d just done it. “Oh, uh-... sorry, I guess. I won’t come as often, if that’s what you want.”

“ _ Huh _ ? No!” Rin piped up quickly, waving a hand in a frenzied dismissal. “That’s not what I meant! I just meant that I, uh-... I mean. You know. It’d be more fun for us to hang out for real some time. Outside of the restaurant.” He ran his hands through the fringe hanging messily in his face as he freed it from its usual clip. When he got no immediate response, he was quick to keep talking. “Unless I’m misreading things, and you really are just here for the food... I dunno. I can’t really tell why you keep coming back…” He trailed off, avoiding looking Shima in the eyes. “But I look forward to you coming in, so I figured it’d be better if we just became friends for real.”

This really was easy. Was it  _ supposed _ to be this easy? Shima didn’t give himself the chance to think too hard on it before smiling at Rin, one hand dipping his spoon into his rice and the other propping his chin up with his elbow against the tabletop. “If you want my number, you could always just ask. You’re so roundabout that I’m gettin’ dizzy.”

Neither of the young men left empty-handed that night. Not only did Shima get Rin’s number as well, he also got a hefty to-go box of some complimentary “leftovers.” Once Rin’s lunch break was up, he ducked back into the kitchen and left Shima to finish his food. Upon bringing the check out to him, the waitress also brought the takeout box full of food.

“Okumura said this was for you,” she said simply, her tone sweet and unperturbed. “Because the curry wasn’t to your liking.”

“Wait, what? That’s not-” Shima raised his hands in defense, then caught a glimpse of black hair peeking around from the kitchen out of the corner of his eye. Rin was holding up an “okay” sign with a big, pearly grin; when he looked back up at her, his waitress offered a knowing smile and a conspiratorial wink. “Oh-...  _ oh _ ! That’s really nice of him. Tell him I said thank you.” 

Shima settled his check, stood up, and waved to Rin subtly on his way out. His other held his takeout, the box surprisingly heavy for its size. It must’ve been packed full of some kind of dense rice dish. Shima couldn’t wait to have it for Dinner later that night. And maybe breakfast the next morning, judging by its weight.

* * *

It turned out that he’d need to figure something out for breakfast after all. Shima groaned a bit as he sat in his desk chair, having just polished off heavy servings of stir-fried rice with vegetables and beef cutlets. He seriously hadn’t expected to finish his to-go box of food, but he’d also gotten caught up watching anime rather than studying, idly plowing through his meal until it was gone.

Now he felt sleepy and heavy, far too much so to get anything productive done. He huffed out a sigh as he shoved the to-go box into the trash can near his desk, then let his hands fall on his stomach to rub soothing circles into it. What he felt caught him off guard though, and drew his curious gaze downwards only for his eyes to widen a bit and his face to flush. Shit. He looked round… and not just from his meal.

Really he was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before. His belly was full and bloated, yes, but it was wider too. His hips were too, and even his thighs looked a bit thicker. They hadn’t always touched that way after all… maybe he wore sweats too often. In fact, he was currently wearing sweats, and waskind of glad for it. If he was anywhere as big as he felt, he feared a button might’ve popped off otherwise.

The idea made him swallow thickly, and a dubious shudder went down his back and through his stomach. Was he getting fat…? He sat up despite his discomfort, his mouth going dry when he noticed the way his belly bulged and bunched in his lap in a way it hadn’t before. Once again he braced both hands against the taut swell, testing its feel with a few presses of his palms.

“ _ Shit… _ ” he hissed, wetting his lips nervously as he shifted a bit in his seat. 

No way; he wouldn’t ( _ couldn’t _ ) get fat. It wasn’t even feasible in his mind. This was probably just his extra-large binge getting in his head… then again, just how much had he been binging lately? Sure, there were always the joking warnings about the dreaded freshman fifteen, but he’d never taken them seriously.

Whatever. He was probably just being paranoid. He was stuffed and sleepy, and he’d probably feel perfectly normal when he woke up the next morning. Even when he got to his feet he couldn’t ignore the roundness of his belly though; normally he would’ve taken comfort in his slim frame, but at the moment it just made him look six months pregnant, and maybe with a bit of extra baby weight on top of it.

He crawled into bed, doing his best not to pay it much mind. That wasn’t easy considering the dull throb in his packed gut. So he gave in, tucking one arm under his pillow to prop up his head, rolling onto his back, and rubbing a hand over the dome of his belly to try and ease the stiff ache. It helped to distract him from the discomfort, but it also drew his attention back to the subtle softness that seemed to hide beneath the tautness.

He fell asleep like that, mouth yawning open as he snored softly and cradled his gut. And, when he woke up the next morning, he was less than pleased to find the swollen mound hadn’t entirely dissipated. His stomach still bulged a bit, even when laying on his back, but now it wasn’t taut and stiff. It was actually kind of  _ squishy. _

Okay. So he’d  _ probably  _ gained a little weight. Big whoop, lots of people did after starting college. Obviously: why else would there be a whole cautionary phrase about it? He’d caught it pretty early at least. As he sat up, watching the extra flesh roll in his lap, he second-guessed that. Maybe not so early. Still, it wouldn’t be hard to lose.

If only he wasn’t head-over heels for a chef who didn’t know what a proper portion size was.

* * *

Now that he’d made his discovery, Shima was starting to notice all the signs he should’ve a month ago. Maybe two months. Like how hard it had gotten to pull his slim-fitted pants up over his ass, or having to struggle and yank at the button to get it to fasten. Then there was the way his t-shirts hugged the subtle bulk that had accumulated on his frame. 

The timing couldn’t have been worse. Now he had plans, and he wanted to make some kind of attempt to look good for them. Especially since those plans were with Rin, but nothing looked right on him now. A few days had passed since his last visit to the restaurant, and he’d finally texted his new “friend.” He’d told himself he’d just been following the three-day rule, but in reality, he’d been a bit nervous. 

Had Okumura noticed yet…?

He supposed he’d have to find out eventually, and better sooner than later, or else the change might be a bit  _ too _ noticeable. Hell, what was he thinking? Like he’d get any bigger. No way. Still… better not risk it. Luckily, Rin happened to have that day off. What Shima hadn’t expected was for him to be so bold as to invite him over to his house to cook for him.

Even more surprising than that was just how casual he was about it, as if having a near-stranger in your house was totally normal. When Shima showed up to his doorstep, Rin greeted him eagerly with a wide, toothy grin. “Hey, glad you could make it!” He swung the door open wider to let Shima inside, shutting in behind him.

“How could I say no?” Shima chuckled casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Getting cooked a private meal by my favorite chef in town? It’s a dream come true.”

He thought it obvious that he was (at least halfway) joking, and yet Rin’s face lit up with a soft, subtle flush. “ _ Your favorite,  _ huh?” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “You just like that I give you free food.”

“It’s a factor.” 

The two shared a jovial bout of laughter as Rin led him to the kitchen. Shima glanced around the place casually; it was modest to say the least, small, and on the cheaper side of town: three things he was pretty familiar with. Honestly, the campus was probably the nicest place he’d ever lived.

“So I guess you’re not in school?” Shima had never seen him on campus anyway, but maybe he went to a different school. Even still, wouldn’t he live in the dorms in that case?

“No,” Rin began hesitantly, his shoulders hunching just the slightest bit. “I’m not very good in school.”

“Right.” Shima couldn't help but chuckle a bit. “You did say you were dumb.”

“No, I said that  _ other _ people said that!” Rin snapped back dully, huffing a bit and crossing his arms. “I just don’t really like school, okay? Besides, I’m getting into the restaurant business. Don’t need much schooling for that, right?”

“Y’know culinary school’s a thing.” Shima shrugged good-naturedly and flashed a teasing grin, leaning back against the kitchen counter and watching the pudgy chef make his way around the space to gather up ingredients and utensils. “It seems to be working out for you so far though.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans, noting how tight they felt and the effort it took to do so. “So you live with your folks.”

“My dad,” Rin answered. “And my brother, Yukio, before he started school anyway. You probably know him: he’s crazy smart… pretty popular too.” 

The even mix of affection and resentment in those words piqued Shima’s interest, but he thought better of asking. Besides: he knew enough about living in your siblings’ shadows from his own experience. “Eh, I know  _ of  _ him, but I keep my social circle small.” That was a nice way of saying he was kind of a loser. “Never would’ve thought you two were related though.”

Again, there was a note of hesitation as Rin offered a weak laugh. “Everyone says that. We don’t really look much alike, I guess,” he added with a pointed little pat to his own belly. “We were both pretty skinny as kids, but I, uh-... I obviously spent a lot more time in the kitchen.”

As cute as the nervous blush on Rin’s face was, it was nothing compared to the way that doughy padding yielded under his fingers beneath his shirt. Shima looked a little too long, watching that softness move in such a way that he could almost imagine what it would feel like under his own palms. He swallowed thickly, his own face feeling a little hot.

“So? I think you look good,” Shima blurted out without thinking, and his fists clenched in his pockets as his eyes shot open wide. Fuck. Why had he said that? Not that it was untrue. Still, he found himself frozen, his mouth falling open in stunned silence. “I mean-… you’re fine the way you are. Who cares about your brother?”

Rin seemed taken aback, the pink in his cheeks heating up a few degrees. That wasn’t really a response he was used to. Usually when he poked fun at himself, people tried to console him somehow, or tiptoe around his weight, or even offer diet plans. They were all equally insulting, in his opinion. He was fat, plain and simple. And, for the most part, he was pretty at peace with it too. He didn’t dislike his body… just the way people looked at it.

Shima didn’t look at him that way though. And then there was that unexpected, but equally genuine compliment. “I-... um. Th-thanks,” he blundered out, clearing his throat a bit. “But you don’t have to butter me up or anythin’.”

“I’m not.” Once again Shima was talking without thinking. He finally withdrew one hand from his pocket to run it raggedly through his hair. “Not everyone likes ‘skinny’ y’know. I said I like how you look and I meant it. So… just take the compliment, okay?”

Rin seemed to consider that, biting the inside of his cheek as he gave Shima a once-over. His eyes made a quick sweep up and down his new friend’s body, assessing a few subtle changes. He supposed he was right: he wasn’t a particularly shallow person when it came to appearances, but he found that his preferences tended to lean more on the softer side as well. Not that he had much experience either way.

Maybe he could gain some though. Or maybe he was just misreading things, like he often did. When had uncertainty ever held him back though? Acting on impulse was kind of a specialty of his. “You look good too,” he responded bluntly, rather than truly accept Shima’s words.

Okay. Now Shima  _ really  _ had to question whether he’d noticed or not. Not that he was really all that willing to find out. He glanced away, his fingers fidgeting with the top button of his snug shirt. He’d wanted to look nice after all, but now he was acutely aware of the gaps between each button and the way the fabric seemed velcroed to him.

“Wow,” Shima scoffed as good-naturedly as possible, “now who’s flattering who?”

Rin’s brows furrowed in a pout as he took a few steps forward just to flick Shima’s forehead, causing him to yelp and flinch back. “What’s with that attitude?” he huffed, his hands resting on his hips defiantly. “Tellin’ me one thing and doin’ the opposite. You’re such a hypnotist.”

“A-...?” Shima was still holding a hand over his forehead, rubbing at the raw spot when he started to snort with laughter. “Pfft… dude. I think you mean  _ hypocrite. _ ”

If Rin hadn’t long-forgotten the whole point of Shima’s visit by that point, he likely could’ve cooked their dinner on his own face. “Whatever!” he retorted hotly, practically seething with embarrassment. “You know what I meant. You’re only makin’ fun of me because you know I’m right.”

Shima hadn’t really intended to make fun of Rin, but he was right about one thing: he had nothing else to say. Maybe he was being a bit hypocritical. This was just kind of… weird. Not in a bad way, but it was uncharted territory for sure, even without his own worries. But uncharted territory was meant to be explored, wasn’t it…? It took all of his nerve, all the courage he could muster up to close what little space was left between them.

The fact that said space was mostly filled by either of their soft stomachs made him gulp in a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue. When Rin didn’t move away (just batted his eyes open widely and dropped his jaw a bit), that was encouraging enough for Shima to fit his hands against his plush waist. Then, despite his nerves, he couldn’t help but smirk a bit as he tugged him forward, pressing their bodies more firmly together.

“You look like you short-circuited,” Shima teased gently, the slight twitch of his brow the only hint of his nerves. Apparently Rin had no words left though, his jaw snapping shut as red flooded his face and all the way up to his ears. Shima cleared his throat before picking up the slack. “So maybe I’m a hypocrite,” he began, “but at least I’m not thick-headed.”

Debatable.

If Rin had any protests in mind, he didn’t get the chance to utter them when their mouths met. Shima couldn’t miss the chance to be smooth (or at least  _ pretend _ to be), even if his endeavors failed in the end. There was no better time to figure out whether or not they were on the same page; the tiptoeing around and sneaky half-flirting bit had gotten kind of stale anyway.

However, Shima wasn’t really in control for very long. It was like that sealing of lips had awakened something inside of Rin, and it definitely wasn’t something Shima was about to fight against. Before he knew it he’d been backed up against the counter, surprised by the brief show of strength and intensity Rin was suddenly exuding. Surprised, but by no means displeased.

Shima tilted his head, curling his fingers into Rin’s hair at the back of his head, guiding him by the roots to do the same. Despite his brief show of force, an adorably pitiful purr rose in his throat as his brows knitted together in a near-blissful expression. Pretty soon, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself either. They’d braced against Shima’s shoulders when he’d pushed him against the counter, but now they were eagerly slipping down his chest to grip the soft curves of his hips.

That was when Shima jolted, trying to scoot back but unable to go anywhere. He put his mild exploration of Rin’s pudgy midsection on hold to clasp his hands instead, stopping them before they could feel anything too incriminating. He hoped so, anyway.

“Hah-,” Shima tried to laugh, but his throat was tight and his voice strained. “Pretty- um…  _ eager _ , aren’t you?”

Rin’s eyes narrowed in confusion, baring his teeth and raising a brow. “Seriously?  _ You _ kissed  _ me, _ remember?” Was he that bad a kisser? Sure, he didn’t know much about it, but...

Then his eyes trailed downwards to where his hands had been stopped, not that it would’ve been hard to free them and continue as he had been. He wouldn’t though; not yet. Not when he knew the exact anxiety Shima was feeling. He remembered a time when he would’ve had the same knee-jerk reaction to being touched there too.

“I get it,” Rin began with an understanding, albeit weak smile. “You think I haven’t noticed yet, right? So you’re tryin’ to hide it.”

Now it was Shima’s turn to fluster and go silent, at least for a moment while his brain rebooted. He shook his head, looking nervously to the side. “Noticed?” Like feigning ignorance would do him any good now, when Rin was already inches away from feeling his own softening belly. 

Rin raised a brow, his grin igniting with a bit more confidence. “You really do think I’m dumb, huh?” he continued, finally dislodging Shima’s hands and moving his own just slightly to squeeze gently at Shima’s hip.

Shima’s breath hitched sharply, but he couldn’t say that the touch was entirely unwelcome. It made his stomach plummet, and his heart pound at the same time. And sent an excited pulse southward. “M-… maybe a bit,” he admitted, relaxing a little now that the bandaid had been ripped off. “But I didn’t think it was that noticeable yet.”

Rin raised a brow and wore a goading, unconvinced smile.

“Okay, okay,” he sighed defeatedly. “I’d  _ hoped _ it wasn’t that noticeable.”

“Well,” Rin began with a well-meaning laugh, “it is. But obviously I’m not bothered by it.” Far from it, really. Honestly though, he hadn’t expected to like it as much as he did: feeling another full, supple shape molding into his own. “So don’t lose your nerve now.”

That was all the encouragement Shima needed. Really, he’d been battling his nerves too long to want to hold back at this point. He resealed their kiss, and this time he let Rin’s hands roam freely. Sure, he shivered here and twitched there, but the involuntary (but equally pleasant) hums escaping him said way more than those uncertain signs.

But when he felt Rin cup a handful of his forming belly, he stopped short. Not in displeasure, but in surprise. And maybe a bit of embarrassment: so there was more there than he’d realized. He knew because his shirt had ridden up just enough to leave his flesh exposed, allowing Rin to truly feel the muffin top he was starting to sport.

He pulled back from their kiss, cheeks flushed and expression twisted up with nerves as he glanced warily down. With the way their chubby forms melded together, he couldn’t even see Rin’s curious hands, but he didn’t need to. He swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the urge to roll his hips forward

“What’re you doing…?” Shima whispered shakily, as if he hadn’t considered doing the exact same thing to Rin’s own generous spare tire.

The chef paused, glancing away and nibbling at his lip. “If I tell you, you can’t get weirded out.” Shima just raised his brow, curling his fingers into Rin’s shirt as if to brace himself. “I’ve-... wanted to do this for a while,” Rin finally admitted, but so quietly Shima almost didn’t catch it.

Oh…  _ oh. _ “So it’s been obvious for a while,” he concluded with a hint of resignation in his voice. “Nobody else said anything, so I thought-”

“I doubt anyone has been looking as closely as I have,” Rin cut in before Shima could finish; before he could worry too much about it. “Plus that’d be pretty rude.”

“Noted.”

Rin smirked shyly as he gave the fold of Shima’s belly another firm roll in his palms, unable to keep from wetting his lips a bit. “It’s better than I expected… you’re almost as soft as I am now.”

That thought sent a bolt of lightning through Shima, and lit a new flame in his cheeks. He couldn’t show anymore weakness though, or let Rin get him even more flustered than he already was. So he reciprocated the oddly lewd touches, pressing his palms and prodding his fingers into the roll at Rin’s waist. It was a bit surprising when he didn’t have quite the same reaction; on the contrary, he seemed to melt into that touch rather than flinch away from it.

“Then I don’t need to tell you how good  _ you  _ feel,” Shima countered, giving Rin’s gut a soft, wobbling shake that drew an unexpected moan from him. Even Shima had to grit his teeth to muffle a satisfied, grating sigh at the feeling of his rippling flesh against his own body. “I’ve thought about this too y’know.”

Rin nibbled his lip, just barely managing to hold back a grin. “Well… I’m not really that hungry yet. Maybe you can help me work up an appetite, and I’ll return the favor by cooking for you.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Idk how to finish things *shrug*
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading ^w^


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